The bed is straight out of Versailles, with four posts and velvet draped over the top. The rug on the floor is hand-woven, but even with its age, the colors are vibrant and silky on my feet as I walk over and tug out some of my textbooks and my laptop.
If I was like some of my co-workers, they would work Roan and surely get a nice paycheck out of the deal. But, I could never. I dance, but I don’t ever let anyone touch me. I won’t go into the private rooms no matter how much the clients offer, and Popcorn has been unusually supportive when it comes to that, which is confusing but I don’t question, I’m just thankful.
I’m going to figure this out. Selling my grandmother’s brooch could set us up for a different life if I can get this buyer to stop being such a hard ass and lowballing me. He’s working me to cut the price below my reserve but I’m staying put.
Only problem is, right now this guy’s the only interested party. I’ve tried to make it look like there’s another bidder, which is probably illegal but right now it’s all I’ve got. If I don’t play this right, I could be stuck right where I started with Popcorn and Lydia and losing my dreams of a life outside of deciding which bills get paid every month and which ones don’t.
I check my emails and there’s a new message from the potential buyer.
My final offer stands. You have twenty-four hours to accept or I will withdraw.
Ugh, how can he do that? As far as he knows, he’s been outbid! And since I’m the ‘bidder’ that’s outbid him, I could be in deep guano if they hold me to the bid. When you sign up for the site, you agree that your bid is a legally binding contract.
Even if I accepted his current offer, it would fix things, for a while anyway. Pay for my additional college expenses and I could quit the club but I’m not sure just how deep Lydia’s debts go. As well, from my research, the value of the brooch is far more than the ninety-five thousand he’s offering and for once, I don’t want to take what’s offered because I’m desperate.
The people with the money always make the rules.
I don’t know if he’s bluffing or not and I have no idea how to respond.
As imperfect as they were, I miss my parents. They loved us. And especially my mother, she saw something different in me and even though she’s not here, I don’t want to let her down.
I tap on my laptop as I fight off the twisting flickers of heat that still linger, thinking of Roan’s silver-gray eyes and the sound of his voice over the phone when he said goodbye on the last call.
Be my good girls. Know I’m thinking of you…
As much as I’ve wanted to be a doctor and rise above my upbringing, there’s something else I’ve never admitted to anyone. I’ve wanted a man that would look at me the way Roan did. I want a man that could kill with one hand and cradle our child in the other. The way he looks at Linnie, how he talks to her…it told me more about who he is than a thousand self-written volumes.
He looked at me with a hunger, and yet it was different than the looks I’ve gotten from men since I outgrew my training bra. It was territorial, but for a man like him I’m sure I would be just another conquest. A young girl with dollar signs in her eyes that he could use and discard with a few fancy words and a few hundred bucks.
I flop down on the bed and bounce right back up. It feels like I’ve had ten cups of coffee. I look at the door my heart thumping.
I take a second, trying to talk myself out of what I want to do.
I fail and a few minutes later, I’ve checked in on Linnie and I’m closing the door to Roan’s bedroom behind me.
Don’t do this. It’s got disappointment written all over it. You’re going to find things that will only prove to you who he really is. Your fantasy is just that, a fantasy. Go back to your room, you have a physics test coming up, studying physics always puts you to sleep…
I shush the voice in my head and proceed without caution.
4
Roan
Doug takes a slug from his bottle of water and looks out the window of the twenty-four hour VIP airport restaurant where we are finishing our breakfast. We’ve spent plenty of time together at all hours over the years, and he’s one of the few people in the world I trust.
“It’s a good thing I like you,” he grumbles, twirling the forkful of spinach and feta omelet bite before stuffing it into his mouth.